


Rickon and Domeric’s Christmas Adventure

by MalcolmXavier



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A Christmas Story Live!, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Aspiring alcoholics, Christmas Story, Dark Comedy, I REGRET NOTHING, I Tried, Krampus - Freeform, Merry Christmas Nanners!, Santa Claus is a cruel and vengeful God, Unusual Character Interpretations, experimental fic, what have I done?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-02-20 01:44:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13136544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalcolmXavier/pseuds/MalcolmXavier
Summary: There is nothing wrong with your computer.  Do not attempt to refresh the web browser.  We are controlling the search results.  If we wish to make the story darker, we will change its tone.  If we wish to make it lighter, we will drain it of all dark humor.  We will control the pace.  We will control the length.  We can control the ending, make it bittersweet.  We can bless the characters with peaceful tranquility or subject them to a senseless slaughter.  For the next two chapters, sit quietly and we will control all that you read and analyze.  We repeat: there is nothing wrong with your computer.  You are about to participate in a Christmas story.  You are about to experience the mischief and misery which define the town of Winterfell during Rickon and Domeric's Christmas Adventure.





	1. Rickon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nanners (nanjcsy)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanjcsy/gifts).



> As always, I own nothing.

“Are you sure about this,” asked Rickon, nervously fidgeting with his grey safety blanket, Ser Leo, as his sister began entering a credit card number into her laptop. _I_ _can’t make Santa angry with me now.I tried really hard to be good for Christmas this year…_

“Do you remember when you told me you saw Joffrey sucker-punch Sansa during an argument when they came over for Thanksgiving,” asked Arya.Even though she hadn’t bothered to stop typing, much less turn around to face her youngest brother, Rickon knew his sister was rolling her eyes at him.Arya always did that whenever she was annoyed about something someone said, which meant she rolled her eyes at people quite often.It had always frustrated their mother, but of late Catelyn Tully-Stark seemed to have decided that it was better than having one of her daughters constantly stick her tongue out at people the way Arya did when she was little. 

“Yes, Joffrey hit her and –” 

“And then you asked me to help you get back at him since Sansa wouldn’t tell anyone and you were afraid that Joffrey would know if you told on him, right?” 

“Yes, but we could get in lots of trouble if mom or dad find out about this.” 

“Are you going to tell them?” 

“No.” 

“Good, then they won’t find out.” 

“But how do you know?Using a stolen credit card is…well…stealing and that’s really bad.Aunt Lysa says one of the seven commandments is that stealing is bad or something.For some reason she only says it when she sees our mom talking to uncle creeper though.” 

“Did you think of uncle Creeper by yourself,” chuckled Arya.  

“No, Sansa calls uncle Petyr that because she said he looks at her weird or something.Anyway, what if you’re wrong and we do get caught?What are you even doing with the credit card number anyway?”This time Arya stopped typing and waited to roll her eyes until she was looking directly at her brother. 

“I’ll explain this to you once,” sighed the middle Starkling.“After that, we’re keeping things on a strictly need-to-know basis.You know that mean old scrooge who is making our dad work second shift today at his stupid factory because it’s Christmas Eve?” 

“Tywin…I mean…Mr. Lannister?What about him,” asked Rickon, scratching his head. _What does he have to do with getting back at Joffrey?And I always thought he seemed like more of a grinch than a scrooge.Our dad wouldn’t work for Mr. Lannister unless he wasn’t as mean as he pretended to be…maybe he just has no one to celebrate Christmas with and that’s why he doesn’t let any of his workers have Christmas Eve off._

“Right, that guy.He came to my school a few weeks ago to give some boring lecture about business or something.He was one of those stupid guest speakers principal Pycelle keeps making us listen to once a month.Anyway, I saw him talking to principal Pycelle and vice-principal Payne and I stole his wallet.Then I –” 

“THAT’S MR. LANNISTER’S CREDIT CARD NUMBER,” gasped Rickon, wrapping his security blanket around his forehead as he began hopping up and down like someone fighting a losing battle against their bladder to keep from wetting their pants before they could find a bathroom.  
  
“SHHHHH!Are you trying to make sure mom finds out,” hissed Arya. 

“No, I just…our dad could get fired if anyone –”

“Seven Hells, Rickon!No one is going to find out what we did and if they do, I’ll be the one who gets in trouble.I’m not going to rat you out.” 

“But I don’t want you to get in trouble either.It’s bad enough that mother has stared blaming you for everything ever since cousin Jon died.I don’t want you to be the only one who gets in trouble for something I helped with…even if I mostly just watched.”For her part, the middle Starkling replied by smiling at her youngest brother. _Why did that make Arya so happy?All I did was tell the truth._

“Thank you, Rickon.Listen, I…I’m sorry if I snapped at you earlier.” 

“That’s okay, it’s just…what were you saying about how you knew we wouldn’t get caught?” 

“Huh?Oh, right…that!So anywho, I wrote down Mr. Lannister’s credit card number and then snuck his wallet back into his pocket.I don’t think he suspected anything, but I waited a few weeks just in case.”  
  
“A few weeks for what?Why won’t you let me see what you’re doing with his credit card?At least tell me how it’ll help us get revenge on Joffrey.” 

“Do you promise not to tell anyone,” asked Arya, looking her brother directly in the eye. 

“I guess so.” 

“Promise?” 

“Fine.I promise not to tell anyone.” 

“Okay, so I’m using Sansa’s laptop to –” 

“That’s Sansa’s computer?” 

“Well…I wasn’t going to use mine.”Rickon buried his head in his safety blanket and prayed that his sister’s plan wasn’t as bad as he feared.Naturally, it was far worse than the younger Starkling could’ve possibly imagined.“Anyway, I’m using Mr. Lannister’s credit card number to make a subscription to some sort of weird interracial gay porn magazine in Joffrey’s name using Mr. Lannister’s address.That way it’ll look like Joffrey stole his grandfather’s credit card to order it, but was so dumb he accidentally used the wrong address.He’ll get in so much trouble and –” 

“Nope,” replied Rickon.  

“What?I can’t hear you with that stupid blanket over your face.” 

“HEY!Ser Leo isn’t stupid!” _He makes me feel safe!I’ve had him ever since Robb and Jon died in a car crash on my birthday.The therapist said Ser Leo was good for me!_

“Whatever.”  
  
“TAKE IT BACK!”  
  
“Okay, okay, I’m sorry I called…Ser Leo stupid.Just keep your voice down!Anyway, what’d you mean ‘nope?’” 

“I mean, I’m out.I won’t tell anyone, but even I know this is a terrible idea.” 

“Whatever, I already put in the order anyway.Hey, look at this; we’ve been selected for a free trip to Mexico!Cool!Hmm…click here to download…wait…why is Sansa’s stupid computer screen turning blue?Oops.Umm…I’m just gonna shut off this off and put it back in her room.” 

“But won’t she know it has a virus or something when she turns it on?”  
  
“Maybe.I don’t know,” Arya replied with a shrug. 

“We are so dead!We should just tell mom right now!We’re in so much trouble!It’s game over, Arya!Game over!Santa Claus will never bring me presents ever again!We have to come clean right now and –” 

“Seven Hells, Rickon, pull yourself together!Santa Claus isn’t –” 

“He isn’t what?Joffrey said Santa was just a lie once, but mom said not to listen to him.He…he’s real, right?Arya?He’s real, isn’t he?”Rickon’s lower lip began to tremble as he looked directly at his sister with wide, watery eyes. 

“He…I mean…he…he…umm…well…it’s just…yes, of course he’s real.And…umm…he won’t be mad at you for not telling mom what we did because you’re just being honest by…umm…keeping your promise to me not to tell anyone,” replied the middle Starkling, biting her lip. 

“Are you shh-shh-sure?” 

“Positive, now just let me put this stupid thing back in Sansa’s room and it’ll be like none of this never even happened…well…except the part about Joffrey getting into trouble.”Rickon breathed a sigh of relief and scrambled out of his sister’s room as fast as his legs would carry him. 

…

From the moment that Rickon left his sister’s room, he found himself drowning in an ocean of guilt.The youngest Starkling could feel it relentlessly clawing at his brain and gnawing at his bones like a rabid dog.Every organ and muscle seemed to have been infected with complete and utter self-loathing.In truth, it was a miracle that Rickon hadn’t thrown up all other himself…yet.It was bad enough that he’d watched Arya accidentally cause Sansa’s computer to get some sort of virus without uttering a word of protest, but they’d actually used a stolen credit card number to frame their older sister’s boyfriend for buying some sort of weird porn magazine.Worst of all, they did it on Christmas eve! _Santa Claus is gonna kill me!I’m going to get a lump of coal in my stocking and no presents at all!_ Rickon began rubbing Ser Leo against his forehead like the therapist told him to, but it was no use.The youngest Starkling slowly shuffled into his room and began gently banging his head against the wall, but not even that made the bad thoughts go away…if anything they only got worse. 

_I have to tell mom what we did!Maybe…maybe if I apologize and admit what we did then Santa won’t be mad anymore because I told the truth.No, I already promised Arya that I wouldn’t tell anyone, so if I tell mom then I’d be lying.I’m so dead!Now instead of leaving presents…wait…NOOOOOOOOO!What if…what if Santa sends a Krampus to gobble me up for his supper?Joffrey once told me that all the worst children get eaten by Krampus and…and…and I don’t wanna die!This is the worst Christmas ever_ , Rickon silently screamed as tears began streaming down his cheeks. _WAIT!That’s it!Santa only sends a Krampus to eat the worst kids, the ones who are so bad that they don’t even get put on the naughty list.That means I just have to do one good thing and Santa won’t send any scary monsters to our house to use my bones for their soup_.The youngest Starkling wiped his eyes with Ser Leo and felt something hadn’t felt in 20 whole minutes: hope…hope that it might not be too late to save Christmas. _Maybe I can even get a small present too…NO!That would be greedy and being greedy is bad.See, Santa?I…I’m already trying to be good, honest!_

_What could I do that would be really, really good?Hmm…well…mom always gets really sad this time of year because Jon and Robb died on December 2nd.I think she was more upset that Jon died since she felt really guilty about being so mean to him just because she didn’t want to adopt our cousin after his parents died when aunt Lyanna accidentally set their house on fire.Mom cried harder than anyone else at Jon’s funeral…even Arya.Bran said that the real reason mom hated cousin Jon was that he was born after our dad did something bad, but I think that’s just a big, fat…FOCUS!I have to think of something super-duper nice I can do to cheer mother up and prove to Santa that I’m not an evil kid who deserves to be eaten alive by a Krampus.I KNOW!Mom used to love when we’d all watch a different Christmas special as a family each year, but now we’re all too old for that, so I could watch one with her.I bet that would make mom happy!_

_Don’t make any final decisions about whether to send a Krampus to cook me for his dinner until after my bedtime tonight.All…all I want for Christmas this year is to not to be chopped up into tiny little pieces by a Krampus.If you get me out of this, Santa, then I promise that I’ll never help frame someone for ordering gay porn with a stolen credit card number on Christmas eve ever again!Please, just…just give me this one last chance!_

…

At first, everything had been going well.The youngest Starkling pretended he missed watching Christmas specials as a family and his mother ate it up like a fresh slice of apple pie.And it didn’t even seem like it was going to be that bad either since Rickon’s favorite movie, A Christmas Story, was going to be on TV soon.Best of all, his mother had even made hot chocolate.For a moment, the youngest Starkling had even dared to hope that this might be Santa’s way of telling him that his prayers had been answered.Alas, it was not meant to be… 

“Mom, why is everyone singing,” asked Rickon as he squirmed about on the couch and tried to keep from going mad with boredom. _There weren’t people singing like this in A Christmas Story.Why is the guy who starred in that dumb Inspector Gadget movie watching Ralphie sleep?It’s really creepy!This is really stupid and definitely not A Christmas Story.I hate this stupid movie!_

“It’s a musical.All the best holiday specials are,” Catelyn cheerfully replied.“A Christmas Story Live!‘Live’ means this is actually happening right now as we’re watching it.”  
  
“Moooooom, I know what ‘live’ means.”Rickon sighed as it became plain that his mother wasn’t listening to a word he said. _At least one of us is enjoying this…_

“Rickon?Is something wrong?You used to love A Christmas Story.” _This…is…not…a…CHRISTMAS STORY!It’s dumb and boring and…wait a minute….what?Why are they singing about being a wimp?This is the stupidest thing ever!THAT’S IT!I never want to see a dumb “musical” or whatever this is ever again and…WAIT!If I pretend to like this “musical” so that my mom will be happy then Santa can’t send a Krampus to get me.He was listening to me earlier!This must be a test.Okay, Santa, I’ll watch your dumb “musical,” but could you please not ruin any of my other favorite movies like this?_

“No, nothing’s wrong,” Rickon lied.“I’m just glad we’re spending time together like our family used to, this is…really fun.” _Why does Ralphie look like he’s screaming in pain when ever he makes his singing voice go really loud?Is someone supposed to be hurting him?This movie doesn’t make any sense.And why is everything happening all out of order?_

“Are you sure nothing’s wrong, Rickon?We can turn it off if –”  

“No, I’m having so much fun right now, honest!Maybe we can watch a Christmas special by ourselves every year.It can be a…umm…a rendition.No, that’s not it.A mother-son –” 

“Tradition?” 

“Right, that.”That made Catelyn smile lovingly at her youngest son for some reason and soon Rickon even found the courage to let go of Ser Leo. _Mom seems really happy; I guess this really did mean a lot to her after all.I guess it’s not that bad.I mean, it sucks, but most Christmas specials are pretty short.All I have to do is wait for it to be over and then I’ll be safe.How long could this dumb “musical” possibly be anyway?_

**Two and a Half Hours Later:**

_I don’t care how scary Krampus is, not getting eaten by a Christmas monster can’t possibly be worth watching another minute of this.I have to think of a reason to leave before mom gets back from the bathroom so I don’t hurt her feelings._ Suddenly, the youngest Starkling noticed his brother quietly creeping towards the front door. 

“Bran, help me,” whispered Rickon.Bran nearly tripped over himself in surprise and scowled at his younger brother. 

“Not now, Rickon; I’m busy!” 

“Can I come,” asked the youngest Starkling, sensing his last, best chance to escape. 

“No, you’re not old enough.Anyway, it’s really important that mom doesn’t notice I’m gone until you get back.You’d just get in the way, most like.” _HEY!My brother and cousin died last year too.Just because Christmas now makes you sad and angry doesn’t mean you have the right to be a mean butt-face to everyone._ Wait a minute…  
  
“Aren’t you supposed to still be grounded because you got caught trying to buy beer at WallMart last week?” 

“Of course, you’re going to tell on me now that I finally have a good fake ID,” fumed the 16 year-old aspiring alcoholic. 

“Bran, you can’t buy beer the night before Christmas!Breaking the law is really bad and –” 

“I don’t have time to argue with you about this, Rickon!” 

“Fine, if you want a Krampus to gobble you up, that’s your problem!” 

“A what?” _Maybe Bran can help me think of a different good deed I can do instead of watching the rest of this “musical” piece of poop…_

“If you don’t let me come with you and help me figure out a good deed to do tonight then I’ll tell mom you were trying to sneak out to buy beer again.” 

“Rickon, I swear by all the Gods, if you say any–” 

“MOOOOOOOOOOM, BRAN’S –” 

“Okay, okay, you can come.You don’t have to be such a little brat about it.Seven Hells, at this rate I might as well just get drunk on the sidewalk,” muttered Bran.“Just…make sure you stay out of the way; you’ll have to wait for me outside the liquor store.It’s not far from our house, so it won’t be too long a walk.Deal?”  
  
“Deal,” replied Rickon, leaping off the couch. _I’m freeeeeeeeeeee!I’ll never have to watch this stupid “live musical” garbage ever again and…FOCUS!I still have to do a different good deed so Santa doesn’t send a Krampus to eat me up for being bad_ , the youngest Starkling reminded himself as he grabbed his security blanket off the couch.*DING-DONG**DING-DONG* _Why would anyone be ringing our doorbell on Christmas Eve?_ Did Mr. Lannister let dad leave work early? 

“Now what,” mumbled Bran.This time, the eldest surviving son of Ned and Catelyn Stark fell backward in surprise and landed flat on his butt, much to his younger brother’s amusement.“What the fuck is wrong with your face,” gasped Bran. _How is mom still in the bathroom?Do women always take a long time in there?Wait…YUCK…I did NOT need that image!GROSS!GROSS!GROSS!_

“And a merry Christmas to you too,” sighed the 13 year-old girl standing in the doorway.“I’ve been going around from house-to-house singing Christmas carols to the rest of the neighborhood because its the only reason my mom ever lets me go outside without a grocery bag over my head and –” 

“I know you!You’re that weird bag girl from…I mean…I know you from school,” exclaimed Rickon.“You’re one grade above me.Your name is Shireen, right?Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you ‘bag girl.’” 

“Yep, that’s me.And you must be that weird blanket boy from school…I mean…Rickon, right?Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you ‘blanket boy.’” 

“HEY!Ser Leo isn’t weird and –” 

“It has a name?” 

“It…I mean…umm…NO!Look, I said I was sorry, okay?I didn’t mean to call you that, it’s just…that’s what everyone at school calls you.I wasn’t trying to be mean and I even apologized besides.” 

“It’s okay, at least you didn’t say anything about the scars; that already puts you ahead of most of the school.”  
  
“I thought they were burns.” 

“I didn’t mean that I wanted you to start talking about them now.Anyway, at least you didn’t call me the Phantom of the Cafeteria or dress up as me for Halloween.Look, I’m sure I don’t want to be here anymore than you and your brother want me here, so I’ll just go to the next house and –” 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA…wait…hold on…someone actually….some…HAHAHAHA…someone dressed…dressed up as you for…for Halloween?You?HAHAHA!That’s great!I wish…I wish I thought…thought…thought of that,” wheezed Bran as tears of joy began rolling down his cheeks.“What did…did they…HAHAHAHA…do for…for the face?Did they…did…did they…HAHAHAHAHAHA…use…umm…wait…did they cut off half of a zombie mask for…for the freak half of your face?” 

“Was your brother always like this or did he fall headfirst out a window?”  
  
“No, he’s been like this ever since our older brother and our cousin Jon died in a car accident.He started drinking too since it makes him not feel anything or something like that.Bran was going to go buy some beer from the beer store near our house while our mom was in the bathroom.My brother Robb was drunk driving when the car crash happened.” 

“Oh, I’m…really sorry to hear that,” replied Shireen.“Well…umm…this is awkward.” 

“What does ‘awkward’ mean?” 

“It means that I’m going to go to sing Christmas carols for your neighbors.”  

“The Boltons or the Cerwyns?”Shireen shrugged. 

“Wait?It sings?Do you dance too?Rickon, why didn’t you tell me that you knew a circus freak,” sniggered Bran. 

“BRANDON BARTHOLOMEW STARK, WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE OF YOUR ROOM? YOU’RE STILL GROUNDED, YOUNG MAN!YOU HAVE UNTIL THE COUNT OF THREE TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF,” yelled Catelyn.Rickon turned around to see the most fearsome thing in the whole world towering over his brother: a truly furious mother.For his part, Bran turned as pale as warm milk. 

“I was just answering the door and I…I thought I could stay and…umm…watch whatever Christmas special you and Rickon were…were watching, so Christmas would be a little more like it was when…I mean…before Robb and Jon died.”Rickon watched in horror as every trace of anger vanished from his mother’s face. _WAIT!That…that means I’ll have to watch the rest of A Christmas Story Live and it won’t even count as a good deed for Santa.I don’t want to waste the last moments of my life watching this dumb “musical!”I bet it’s not even really happening live!_ Rickon turned to Shireen and silently mouthed the desperate four-word plea of terrified children everywhere: “Take me with you!”The burned girl tilted her head as if trying to decide how to respond. 

“Mrs. Stark?” 

“Oh yes, dear, I’m sorry about that.You’re the little Baratheon girl, aren’t you?The one whose face got…I mean…are you one of Rickon’s friends from school?Do you like A Christmas Story,” asked Catelyn, never once taking her eyes off the massive scars covering the left side of Shireen’s face. _SAVE YOURSELF!Tell her you’re not interested before it’s too late!_

“Umm…right, I don’t want to get Rickon’s brother in trouble, but my mom says alcohol is a gateway drug and he could get hurt.Brandon was going to sneak out and try to buy beer to take to his room.I heard him say so!Also, he said that the scars on my face from when my dad’s girlfriend held my face down on our electric stove made me look like a circus freak and wished he’d thought of dressing up as me for Halloween.”Bran evidently couldn’t help snickering at that even after his mom shot him a death glare.“That really hurt my feelings, Mrs. Stark.Could…could you maybe ask him to not say things like that to me?Please?” 

“You poor thing, I’m so sorry.I promise my son will never speak to you that way again.In fact, he feels so badly about it that he is going to march straight to his room and handwrite a two page, front-and-back apology letter to you right now, aren’t you, Brandon?”  


“WHAT?Do I have to?” 

“Yes!Rickon, why don’t you go play outside with your little friend.I need to have a long talk with your brother about how we talk to people with physical disabilities.” 

“Umm…Mrs. Stark, my face is not a physical disability.” 

“Ohhhh why of course it isn’t, sweetheart,” replied Catelyn as she bent down and pinched the burnt girl’s right cheek.“Each of those horrible scars is like a kiss from an angel!” 

“Okaaaaay, well that’s enough of this house for one night.Oh and I forgive you, Bran.Have a merry Christmas!”For his part, Brandon Stark replied by flicking off Shireen the moment his mother’s back was turned. 

“Yeah, Shireen and I are going to go…umm…play.” 

“Wait…what?I don’t want to play with –” 

“Bye, mom,” yelled Rickon as he quickly put on his sneakers and raced out the door, slamming it shut behind him.For a moment, the two children simply stood and listened as Catelyn began yelling at her eldest son so loudly that they could hear her from halfway down the snow-covered driveway. 

“Well, I’ll see you and your blanket in school.” 

“Wait…umm…Shireen?” 

“Yes?Hold on…you’re not going to make fun of my face too, are you?” 

“No, actually, I was going to do something really nice for you.A good deed…or something like that.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m going to do something super nice; I am willing to be your friend even though you have a really weird face.” 

“Wait a minute, you’re WILLING to be my friend even though I have a ‘weird’ face?Wow, you’d really do that for me?How incredibly selfless of you to subject yourselfto something that horrible.” 

“I know, right,” the youngest Starkling proudly replied. 

“Gosh, I don’t even know what to say.And you’re sure this isn’t going to be too much of a burden for you?” 

“Nope, I’m only doing it for the rest of tonight.I don’t think I want to be friends any longer than that.”  

“You’re really something, Rickon, you know that?” 

“The best part is that this way you’ll know what it feels like to have a friend.” 

“Wait…are you saying you want to pretend to be my friend for a few hours because I’ve never had any real friends?” 

“Right.You probably don’t have any friends because your burns and the grocery bag make everyone at school think you’re some sort of weirdo, but I’ll pretend you don’t have a creepy face since it’s Christmas today.” 

“That’s…so…very…nice…of…you…Rickon.” _Shireen doesn’t look very happy.Why was she grinding her teeth while she said that?_

“I mean, you’ve gotta admit your face looks pretty weird.Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.” 

“No, don’t worry about hurting my feelings, Rickon.After all, why stop now, right?Just stay still for a second, okay?” _She must be tearing up because of how happy she is!Now Santa will have to protect me from Krampus for sure!_

“Umm…yeah, stay still?Got it, I can do that.So I did a good deed by making you feel like you have a friend, right?Right?Shireen?What are you doing?Are you okay?Why do you want me to stay still?Can I move now?Shireen?Is that a snowball?What are you…HEY!What was that for,” shouted Rickon as he wiped the remnants of Shireen’s snowball off his face. _Wait…NO!You’re not supposed to start crying; I…I was being good…Santa is going to kill me!_

“I…I don’t want to *sniff* don’t…don’t want to *sniff* be your *sniff* your friend.You *sniff* you make me *sniff* you make me hate myself!” 

“I what?Wait…please stop crying.This was supposed to be a good deed.” 

“Which part?Telling me you didn’t *sniff* didn’t want to *sniff* be my friend or telling *sniff* telling me that no one would *sniff* would ever want to be my *sniff* friend because of how my *sniff* my face looks.Don’t *sniff* don’t you think I already *sniff* already know that everyone will always *sniff* always hate me before they even *sniff* even say one word to me?I wish I was dead,” wailed Shireen. 

“I didn’t mean it like that!Please, just…just stop crying, okay?Shireen?Please, stop crying!” 

“I *sniff* I wouldn’t want to *sniff* be your fuh-friend if you were the last *sniff* the last *sniff* last person on earth,” sobbed Shireen, slumping down to the ground and burying her face in her gloved hands. _NO!This is all wrong!Please, Santa, just…just give me a little bit of time to fix this before you send a Krampus after me!_

“Okay, fine.I’ll be your friend for real.” 

“Did it ever occur to you that I *sniff* that I might not *sniff* not want to be YOUR friend?” 

“No.I mean, it’s not like you’ll ever any friends otherwise and…HEY!STOP THROWING SNOWBALLS AT ME!” 

“Stop saying I don’t have any friends and I’ll stop throwing snowballs at you.Anyway, this is the worst Christmas ever.I’m going home!” 

“NOOOOOOO!Please, you have to agree to be my friend, so I can do a good deed by being friends with a weird disabled person.Otherwise Santa is going to send a Krampus to eat me for supper!PLEASE, I…I REALLY NEEEEEEEED THIS!”Shireen walked over to the youngest Starkling, took off her left glove, and put her hand on his forehead as a concerned look spread across her face. 

“What are you doing?”  
  
“That’s weird, you don’t seem to have a fever.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with me.I’m not sick.” 

“Oh.Well then why do you think Santa Claus is real?” 

“Wha…what?He’s not real?” 

“Didn’t your parents tell you Santa Claus wasn’t real when you were six?You’re like twelve years old.”  
  
“Buh-buh-but…but I thought…NOOOOOOOOO!It’s a lie and…and…and WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH,” screeched the youngest Starkling. 

“Seven Hecks, are you really…I mean…look, I…I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.I’m sure Santa Claus is real and has a Krampus.There, are you happy now?” _I KNEW KRAMPUS WAS REAL!I’m so dead!It’s not fair!I was trying to be good!It’s not…not…_

“WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” 

“What if…what if, I let you be my friend like you wanted so you can do your good deed or whatever.Will you stop crying then?” 

“Okay,” mumbled Rickon, wiping his eyes on his right sleeve. 

“What’s that,” blurted Shireen.  
  
“The Bolton’s house?” 

“No, not that, look over there.”Rickon glanced at his neighbor’s house and his eyes grew wide with fear as a shadowy, horned creature staggered through the yard, slowly making its way toward him. 

“IT’S KRAMPUS!SANTA SENT HIM TO EAT ME,” screamed Rickon, running across his family’s driveway and straight into the garage door, falling backward, hitting his head on the driveway, and knocking himself out cold.*THUD*


	2. Domeric

As soon as the eldest Bolton came down the stairs, he knew his stepbrother had done something that would come back to bite both of them in the ass the moment their father got home. _Seven Hells, how could one 13 year-old possibly cause so much trouble?Is that a half empty bottle of scotch on the floor?He drank all that while I was gone?I’m 17 and I can barely keep one bud light down.Granted Ramsay was always big for his age, but even so…I was only in the bathroom for a few minutes; he must’ve chugged until he puked.That little brat better not be dead and…well…mayhaps that would be for the best.No, no, he’s still my brother and hardly knew his mother besides; I mustn’t think such things of him.You stole that from a grocery store, didn’t you, you little bastard?_ *CRASH* _At least he didn’t go far…I suppose I should be happy that father has our only car._

The front door was wide open and there was a large puddle of vomit all over middle couch cushion.It was as though a pile of radioactive Reese’s Pieces – or perhaps more accurately, Reese’s Feces, if its color was anything to go by – had been melted down to reveal the rotting, green, peanut-riddled center that had been encased within the brownish outer portion of the puddle. _Ah yes, why bother covering your tracks when you can guarantee that father finds out?Seven Hells, Ramsay, why is there glue all over the coffee table?It’s your funeral, I suppose.Wait a minute…father’s chair is missing two of its legs.FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!FUCK!FUCK ME!I AM SO DEAD!He’s like Archie fucking Bunker; he loves that bloody chair more than anything else in the world.He’ll blame me for letting Ramsay do that!_

Roose Bolton may’ve appeared to be a simple enough man to those who knew him only as the head of human resources at Time Warner-Spectrum’s Westrosi regional office.To all outward appearances, he was a quiet though exceedingly polite workaholic, but his children knew better.In the privacy of his home, Mr. Bolton was a vicious beast of a man who’d lost two wives in what Domeric forced himself to pretend were simply tragic accidents.In truth, the only thing Mr. Bolton enjoyed about his job was that it allowed him to troll the entire seven state region by hiring only the laziest and most incompetent of job applicants for the customer service division.Then there was that bloody belt of his; Roose Bolton was never content to simply hit his children with his belt when he was wroth with them.The man could keep going for an hour on a good day and had a nasty habit of using the belt like a whip while trying to hit his sons in the head with the buckle.The Gods alone knew what Roose would do when he saw his favorite chair was ruined. 

_I’m dead anyway, so I suppose there’s nothing left to do except see where Ramsay passed out.Congratulations, you’ve finally gotten rid of me…_ Sure enough, Ramsay was passed out on the driveway with the two missing legs of their father’s chair glued to his head.Oddly enough, there was a little girl Ramsay’s age poking his face with a stick.Eventually, she seemed to grow tired of poking the youngest Bolton in his left eye as he pawed aimlessly at the air and managed to get the stick all the way down his throat…only for Ramsay to vomit all over himself. 

“EWWWWWWWWWWWW!” 

“You, little girl, I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me drag my HOLY SWISS CHEESE AND BACON!Is that your face?Are you okay?He didn’t…did my brother do that to you?”  
  
“Ugh, not this again,” moaned the little girl, rolling her eyes.“Can’t you people just not comment on my face?Please?” 

“Listen, whatever your name is –” 

“My name is Shireen.Who are you supposed to be?” 

“Look, I’m going to give you some free advice,” growled Domeric as he forced his brother to sit up in order to keep the fool from choking to death on his own vomit. 

“Maybe I don’t want your advice.You’re Ramsay’s brother, so why should I believe anything you say?” 

“Okay, that’s not entirely unreasonable, but –” 

“I know, that’s why I said it.” 

“If you’d just let me talk for one second –” 

“It’s been a second.Will you leave me alone now?” 

“Seven Hells, now you’re just being a smartass.” 

“And you’re still talking to me even though I never asked to hear why you think my face makes me look like a freak or whatever horrible thing you were about to say.Now leave me alone, you bald creep!” 

“WILL YOU JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR TWO GOD DAMN MINUTES AND LET ME SPEAK,” roared Domeric.For a moment the burned girl – who, whatever else she’d been through, had plainly never been spoken to that way before – simply stood still with her mouth hanging open in shock as though she’d forgotten how to do anything other than blink. 

“Yes, s-s-s-sir.I’m suh-suh-sorry for…sorry for…for talk-talking buh-buh*sniff* back,” whimpered Shireen. _No, don’t look at me like that.Seven Hells, I was trying to help you not scare the living daylights out of you.Okay, it’s been like five whole seconds; please stop looking at me like I just shot Bambi’s mother.Or at least stop shaking like you’re having a small seizure…_

“Look, all I meant was that you look like you’re completely blind in one eye, you’re missing large clumps of hair along with the upper half of your left ear, and the left side of your face is covered with the worst burn scars I’ve ever seen in my entire life.People are going to comment.Not everyone who does is making fun of you.You need to accept that fact and learn to make peace with it.Your life will be much easier that way.Do you understand?” 

“Yes, s-s-sir.” _God damn it!Why couldn’t I have just kept my bloody mouth shut?_

“I’m sorry for yelling at you, now will you please stop saying that?” 

“Yes, s-s-s-sir.” _As always, no good deed goes unpunished…_

“I didn’t even scream at you that loudly.Hasn’t anyone ever lost their temper and yelled at you before?” 

“Never.My *sniff* my mom never raises her voice, she just…just hits me a lot.That’s the other reason I always have to wear a grocery buh-bag over my face most of the time.The fuh-frying pan hurts the *sniff* the most…” _Seven Hells, can’t you say one bloody thing that doesn’t make me feel awful for shouting at you?_

“Jeyne?Wha-Where Jeyne?Want…wah…want Jeyne…sis-sister?Want her buh-back,” groaned Ramsay just before the dry heaves began. _What?You never had any sisters._

“Is your brother okay?Aside from being a complete jerk, I mean?” 

“What exactly did he do to you?”  
  
“He dressed up as me for Halloween last year.” 

“Of course he did,” sighed Domeric. 

“Whaaaa…what happened?Why does by head feel all fuzzy,” moaned a little boy who had apparently been lying unconscious in front of the Stark family’s garage door the whole time. _More of them?The little bastards just keep coming, don’t they?_

“Jeyne?Like…like sis-sister and fath-fah-father kill bill…killed her,” sobbed Ramsay.“SHE WAS BEST PUPPY I EVER HAD…HAD…HE HAD HER PUT DOWN!” 

“Okaaaaaay, it’s been…umm…something, but Rickon and I have to get going right now,” the burned girl nervously dragging the dazed little boy toward the Stark residence. _Well at least they’re not my problem anymore!_

…

Domeric dragged his stepbrother into their house once Ramsay finally stopped vomiting and kept him sitting up straight by wedging him between the coffee table.Domeric was about to leave the house in search of a safe place to spend the night when the front door swung open.Both Boltons knew full well that only one of them would survive this Christmas the moment that Roose glanced at his broken chair.Domeric stood frozen in horror as his father silently enter the downstairs bathroom and returned holding a straight-razor. 

“It’s best if you don’t try to run.After all, we wouldn’t want to keep your mother waiting.You’ll be seeing her soon, I think.I would say it will all be over soon, but…well…I suppose that’s not quite true.Why must they always run,” sighed Mr. Bolton as Domeric raced into his father’s study. 

_Please let him still keep that gun in…thank the Gods!The drawer isn’t even locked!_ Domeric grabbed the handgun that his father kept in the top drawer of his desk, prayed that it was loaded, and spun around just in time to see his father approaching him.If Mr. Bolton feared Domeric would shoot him, he showed no sign and within seconds he was nearly upon his eldest son.Domeric did his best to aim the gun directly at his father’s head and pulled the trigger.


	3. Domeric

**** “Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!I’m going to go to jail and –”Suddenly, new fears gave way to the old returned as Mr. Bolton slowly rose from the ground. _That’s impossible, I shot him in the eye and he’s just covering his…wait…there’s no blood.Why isn’t there any blood?_ “You’re dead, I…I…I shot you and…and –” 

“Blanks…you…you shot me…shot with blanks for…part of…game,” gasped Mr. Bolton“Can’t see…blind in left eye.” _Wait if they’re blanks then at really close range…_ Without another word, Domeric raced up to his father before the half-blind monster had time to react, pressed the gun against his father’s right thigh and fired.This time, Mr. Bolton went down screaming. 

_I should kill him.Blanks can really hurt if shot at close enough range, I…I remember Ramsay telling me…_ Domeric wanted to press the gun against his father’s head and avenge his mother.However, he simply couldn’t bring himself to blow his own father’s brains out while the man was lying on the floor, howling in pain…even after everything the monster had done to him and those he loved.The only phone allowed in the house was Mr. Bolton’s cellphone which meant there was only one option left: Run… 

_That weird girl from my AP Calculus class, Arya, she…her family lives next door, I think.Fuck it, their house is as good a place to hide as any.Her parents will believe me; they have to!I…I just need to use their phone.I can call the police and lead them to Walda’s body.Ramsay said she was buried in the parking lot between the WallGreens and that run-down Clegorphanage.The police should be able to find the bones and that math-loving nerd is always babbling about how one of her brothers is a cop so if I can convince Mr. and Mrs. Stark then their house should be safe whenever father comes looking for me…I just have to be calm, tell them it’s a life or death emergency, and they’ll let me use the phone._

…

“OPEN THE DOOR!PLEASE!HELP,” screamed Domeric, banging on his neighbors’ door and began repeatedly ringing the doorbell. _Dumbass, now father will know you went here.You just put an innocent family in danger.Fuck, I forgot about Ramsay.I should go back and save him.He’d do the same thing for…well…I mean…he’s still my half-brother.That has to count for something…_

“Seven Hells, why are you ringing our stupid doorbell at 10:00 at night on Christmas,” snapped an angry voice as the door swung open.“What could you possibly…umm…I mean…I’m suh-sorry, Domeric.I…I didn’t know it was or…what…what are you doing here,” stammered Arya. _I don’t have time for…whatever you’re doing right now!_  

“Riiiiiiight.Listen, I need to use your phone and…wait…are you okay?You’re acting weirder than usual.” 

“What?I mean…umm…of course I’m fine, stupid!Why would anything be wrong?Nothing’s wrong!What’s wrong with you?You’re the one who is acting weird!” 

“Whatever, are your parents home?Please, I need to use your phone right now,” begged Domeric as Mrs. Stark made her way to the door. _Thank God, hopefully Mrs. Stark knows how to speak using syllables and sentences.I wonder if she dropped her daughter on the head as a child.Wait…why is Arya’s face all red?Does she have a fever or something?_

“Oh look, Arya, it’s that boy who…wait…sorry, I forgot that I’m not allowed to talk about that.” 

“MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!” 

“You’re Mr. Bolton’s son, aren’t you?Good heavens, what’s wrong?You look as though –” 

“Yes, my name is Domeric Bolton.Now can I PLEASE use your phone!Or at least hide in here; my father is going to kill me.” 

“In that case, I’m afraid you can’t come over, Domeric.And a boy should be spending Christmas with his family besides.” 

“UGGGH!But mom –” 

“Don’t even start, Arya.It was bad enough when I had to go through this sort of thing with your sister and Joffrey,” sighed Catelyn, rolling her eyes.“Domeric, you’re welcome to come over another time, but running away from your problems is no way to go through life.Whatever you’re worried about, I’m sure your father will understand.If you did something wrong then honesty is always the best policy.”

“Mrs. Stark, you don’t understand, my father is actually going to kill  – ” 

“Yeah, mom, you just don’t understand!” _Wait…what are you talking about?_

“Oh?What don’t I understand, Arya?” 

“Umm…I mean…nevermind.” _Seven Hells, what is going on with you?Are you just some sort of female Rain Man who happens to be freakishly good at math?_ Suddenly, the deafening roar of a shotgun ripped through the air.Mrs. Stark’s eyes had already grown wide with fear and by time the second shotgun blast went off, she had plainly realized just how dangerous a situation she had on her hands.  


“Arya, go upstairs, and hide with Bran and Rickon in the cabinets beneath the sinks in the upstairs bathroom; the three of you should both be able to fit inside.No matter what happens, you’re not to come out or make a single sound unless your father or I tells you it’s safe.Domeric, get inside and call the police!I’ll do my best to stall if your father comes looking for you, but if he’s armed –” _ABOUT FUCKING TIME!_

“Wait…Mom, is someone going to try to break into our house?” 

“I don’t know.You and your brothers need to hide right now.” 

“I can help you or –” 

“ARYA OAKLEY STARK, DO AS I SAY,” bellowed Mrs. Stark with such terrifying intensity that Domeric nearly tripped over his own feet in surprise as he raced into the house.The eldest son of Roose Bolton looked back just long enough to see Arya race up the stairs as Mrs. Stark locked the front door.Domeric dove behind the Starks’ living room coach and barely managed to keep himself from hyperventilating when he saw that his cellphone was completely out of power.*Ring**Ring**Ring* At this point, there was nothing left for Domeric to do except listen to Mrs. Stark talk to his father through the door and pray for a miracle. _I’m sorry for getting all of you weirdos killed…Listen, you stupid old Gods, I don’t care what you do to me.You can make whatever horrible thing happen to me that you want, but please don’t let any more innocent people die because of me.I hope Ramsay is alright…_  

“Mr. Bolton?It’s 10:30 at night.Is everything alright?” 

“No.My son is at your house, I think.I wish to speak with Domeric.Please, Mrs. Stark, unlock the door before the boy hurts anyone else.Your children are in grave danger as we speak."  

“Why is that?” 

“I don’t know what my son has told you, but he shot me in the eye with a gun loaded with blanks.He already murdered his younger brother by shooting him with a shotgun at pointblank range.I fear poor Ramsay’s head was blown to pieces.I simply wish to get Domeric the help he plainly needs before he hurts himself or someone else.” 

“I don’t believe you.I heard gunshots coming from your house and –” 

“If you’ll unlock the door, then I can pick up my son and you can get back to celebrating Christmas with your family.” 

“I…I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“No?” 

“No.Your son told me what you did and I’ve already called the police.Now get off my property!” _NO!DON’T SAY THAT!It’s not even true and now he’ll kill you for sure._

“Is that so?Very well.Of course, it may interest you to know that I have your youngest son.Rickon is the boy’s name, I think.” 

“Rickon came inside a while ago…I think.” 

“Did he?” 

“MOOOOOOOOOOOM!HEEEEEEEELLLLLLLLP!He *sniff* he has a guh-gun,” sobbed the voice of a frightened little boy from the other side of the door. 

“I am happy to trade a son for a son, Mrs. Stark.” 

“NO!DON’T LET HIM IN!SHIREEN ESCAPED AND IS CALLING MMMMPHHHH!MMMPH!MMMMMPH! MMMMPPPPHHH!”

“If the police truly know all that I have done then it will be some time before I see the light of day again.One way or another, I am going to put a bullet in a child’s head tonight.I am still willing to trade a son for a AAAAARRRRGGGGHHH.Seven Hells, that burned brat got away by biting too!Very well, if little Rickon thinks he can outrun a bullet, I suppose it would be rude of me not to give him the opportunity.”Suddenly, police sirens started blaring and within seconds, Mr. Bolton’s blood was splattered across the Stark family’s front door.It was a Christmas miracle…


End file.
